A Million Little Pieces
by i-am-mindwalking
Summary: Someone has to pick up the pieces and who would have guessed it's Shaw helping Root. Root/Shaw, set between 3x19 "Most likely to..." and 3x20 "Death Benefit", One-shot but there might be more.


_Thank you for beta-reading, Beth! _

_Lyrics from "Search and Destroy" by 30 Seconds to Mars_

_._

**_A million little pieces_**

"You could stay. " Roots voice is soft and there's no hint of the usual flirtation.

Shaw narrows her eyes slightly, then pulls the door closed behind her. She always left before things got messy. And this was a potential disaster.

Biting her lip when the elevator doors closed, Shaw sighed. Her lips tingled and adrenalin was pumping through her body. "Damn," she shook her head, the bangs falling from her ponytail falling over her eyes.

Don't get attached! She repeated over and over but it didn't help. She already was. It started with Harold and John who had saved her life. Then there were Carter and Fusco, and even for the sociopath hacker slash killer-for-hire and now analog-interface to the Machine. Sure, she could be sour for being tasered and kidnapped, but she wasn't one for holding grudges. As far is concerned her, they were even. Damn, that punch in the tunnel had felt good, Shaw grinned. The elevator pinged, doors opening and she stepped into the lobby.

_I let go, let go  
Let me go, let me go _

_A million little pieces we've broken into _

**One day earlier**

"I'm afraid you're on your own on this one," Shaw tipped her in-ear-device.

"And why would that be, Miss Shaw?" Harold and John exchanged a suspicious look.

"Root's in no condition to join us and I can't leave her alone like this." Shaw rolled her eyes. Why me, she thought, why couldn't Harold have sent Reese? He was a bit more sensitive than her.

"What's wrong, Miss Shaw? Should I send an ambulance?" Harold asked while Shaw looked around the sparsely decorated one bedroom apartment, evaluating the situation. Root mumbled things she couldn't understand, rocking back and forth holding her hands in front of her eyes.

"No, I'll deal with it." And with that she punched out.

Root mumbled something that sounded like go away, and Shaw spotted a medicine container on the nightstand. Checking the label, she made a calculated guess about what had happened, and sighed.

Root was on a bad trip, triggered by pills she got from the otologist who probably didn't know anything about her background, A.K.A. the roller coaster ride Control took her on with amphetamine and barbiturate.

"Hey!" Shaw tried to make Root look at her, but her hands were slapped away and her comrade became frantic.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted and kicked.

"I don't have time for this," Shaw sighed and tried again. After a moment of wresting and hand to hand combat training skills at its best, Shaw managed to turn her around, holding her from behind, Root's arms pinned to her chest while she still bucked like a horse. But Root had only so much energy left and after a long few minutes, she collapsed against Shaw, sobbing.

Shaw simply sat and held her, a little surprised how fast all Root's muscles relaxed and caved in.

_A million little pieces_

_I'm no hero, guilty as charged _

The human body could only take so much and Root had taken quite a few hits. But that probably wasn't what had broken her. The hacker had seemed fine after the physical torture by Control and even after taking a bullet for Cyrus. Actually, Root seemed to feel like she had deserved that. But even if you seem fine, some things come back to haunt you: In your dreams, crossing your thoughts when you least expect it. Shaw had seen it all; lots of her comrades in theater had had an episode like this.

Shaw envied them sometimes. While her disorder helped her tremendously in doing her job and doing it well, it also kept her from enjoying the little things. If she wanted to feel something, anything at all, she always had to step her game up a few notches.

That was the other reason she didn't do relationships. People always expected her to act on something, like happiness, sadness, excitement. But she couldn't. She could fake it. She could feel sadness, she had wanted to cry when her father died, but she couldn't. Her brain told her it wasn't any good, she couldn't change anything by crying and so she didn't. As a teenager, she had learned to mimic her fellow scholars. But she was faking it.

Sure, she got angry and it was fun to let it out sometimes. But there were very few things that made her happy, really happy. She always had to do extremes. And other people usually didn't get that. Those who did, were either really bad for her or using her or both.

And now she sat on the floor, pushing long dark strands of hair out of the way and inspecting the scar behind Root's ear and on her shoulder and asserted, satisfied, that at least the scars had healed nicely. She knew a sinus infection could cause complications with an implant, so that was probably the reason Root had taken the medicine; which kicked her right to hell and back.

_Sold my soul to heaven and to hell  
Sick as my secrets, I'm never going to tell _

It would be the perfect opportunity to strangle the hacker, Shaw pondered about how many times she had thought about that. But things had changed, Root had changed. She still wasn't a poster girl for moral standards, but she had made a difference, had helped them out numerous times; and while the flirting and know it all demeanor irritated her to no end, she had to admit she sort of liked that game and the appreciation she got.

The apartment was quiet, only the steady noise from the street pierced through the walls and she could hear the clock on the wall ticking. Every once and a while Root would stir and tense, fading in and out of sleep and she would tighten her grip a little until she calmed down.

And as awkward as this situation was, Shaw felt herself calm down. There were very few times she had time to do nothing, to let her guard down and rest. And so she took the opportunity and slowly relaxed, taking deep breaths, noting the smell of lavender shampoo and sweat.

She scooted back a few inches, resting her back to the wall and pulling Root's exhausted body with her.

_Found my faith living in sin _

When Root opened her eyes the next time, the room wasn't filled with phantoms anymore and it was light outside. Only the faint sunlight illuminating her room. She felt warm and safe, and while her memory was faint, she remembered Shaw chasing away her ghosts. Sinking further back, she felt Shaw stir against her back and smiled. She stroked Shaw's hand with her thumb, waiting for her to wake up, which she didn't, so she kept going. Not ready to shake it all off, Root tried to keep motionless, savoring this single moment of calmness and intimacy.

But Shaw was awake, and she was very aware of her skin tingling at Root's caress. While her first instinct was to push her off and run, she froze. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed the proximity. Only when she started to enjoy herself too much, she grumbled something, slightly pushing Root off.

I let go, let go  
Let me go, let me go

_A simple answer is never what it seems _

"All the persons I shot were standing in this apartment," Root's frowned and her voice was a tad bit higher than usual and she opened her eyes wide, the memories coming crashing down on her.

"Must have been crowded," Shaw stated unsympathetically and stayed alert. She never knew what the crazy one was up to next.

"It was rather unpleasant," Root held her hands up in a surrendering gesture and Shaw let it go.

"I wouldn't know." Shaw pushed herself up, stretching her sore limbs and offering a hand to Root.

"Lucky you, then."

"Is it safe to leave you alone now?" Shaw narrowed her eyes.

"I didn't know you cared so much, that's so sweet," Root stepped closer, trapping Shaw with her back to the wall.

"And there it is again, the unmistakable urge to punch you in the face." Shaw smirked.

"Thanks, for this," Root took a half step back, all playfulness had left her demeanor and she seemed rather nervous. Not a surprising side effect to the drugs.

"Still seeing dead people?" Shaw asked coolly, resisting the urge to push Root further back.

"Not unless you're a ghost." Root wanted to add something else but held back. She kept starring in Shaw's eyes, resisting the urge to let her eyes travel.

"Not yet anyway." Shaw stood her ground, too proud to back down. Heat was building up inside her and she felt her cheeks blush. She never blushed. Except.

Damn that woman! Shaw narrowed her eyes and brushed past Root.

"Call if you hallucinate again."

"Can I call even if I don't?" Root asked before Shaw pulled the front door shut. Hopefully, there was a new number distract her.

_I'm no Jesus, neither are you, my friend _

_Search and destroy, search and destroy _

"What took you so long?" John asked as he changed his clip and reloaded his gun, bullets flying past them.

"Root's not coming," Shaw covered him and they moved forward.

"And who's getting us in?" John hit the last assailants in the vest, knocking the air out of him before he punched him out.

"That would be me," Harold limped towards them, laptop under his arm. "Where's Miss Groves?" he turned towards Shaw with his usual stiff posture.

"Handcuffed to her bed," Shaw shrugged and Harold's eyes widened.

"What was I supposed to do?" she picked the lock and let them inside. "I couldn't leave her alone like that."

"So you handcuffed her to her bed?" John smirked while Harold sat on the workstation and connected his computer to the terminal.

"I didn't," Shaw eyed Harold sternly. "She's fine. I'll go check on her when we're finished here." Shaw rolled her eyes, not understanding the fuss. Even if she had cuffed her, didn't they trust her by now?

_I'm a whore, A birth of broken dreams _

"Would you bring me a number 42 with extra Parmesan?" Root asked and Shaw rolled her eyes. How the hell did she know she was on her way to her favorite take out place, anyway.

"Please?"

"Go get your own dinner."

Shaw pushed the door open and welcomed the warmth and smell of pizza and pasta. She was craving carbohydrates and this place had the best scalloped noodle dish in town. Glancing up at the camera over the counter, she licked her lips and wondered if Root was watching the camera feed.

"Would you bring some beer as well?" the voice in her ear asked when she stepped back onto the street with a bag in hand.

"Don't push it!"

"It's for you." Root laughed and disconnected the line. Someone certainly was feeling chipper.

_Stole it from you _

"Thank you for dinner." Root looked over her plate.

"You owe me twenty bucks." Shaw put hers down and took a sip from her beer.

"You still don't trust me, do you?" Root pointed at her with her fork and Shaw raised an eyebrow.

"I never know what you might do if I turn my back on you." Shaw retorted and Root looked down.

"I won't hurt you, I promise, unless it is vitally important," Root leaned forward and added, "or you ask me to."

"Right," Shaw grinned. "That's my cue to go. Tell Her to give you a break. Rest, or I will handcuff you to the bed." Shaw narrowed her eyes, challenging and Root grinned. She definitely was feeling better.

"Did you bring yours or should we use mine?" Root followed her to the door and held out her coat.

"You're pushing again." Shaw slipped her arms in the sleeves and turned around.

"I'm not," Root tugged at the collar, pulling Shaw into her personal space.

It would have been easy to stand her ground, but Shaw let herself be drawn. In the back of her head she heard alarm bells but she deliberately ignored them.

Their first kiss is so very different than they both expected. There is no hint of anger, rage, no punching, biting, teeth, no sign of negative tension. It is slow and soft and comfortable.

Root let her hand trail over Shaw's neck and Shaw holding onto her waist while she's simply enjoying the feel of those soft lips.

"Huh," is Shaw's only reaction when Root' pulls back.

"You could stay," the hacker offered but Shaw turns, and leaves the apartment.

_Let go, let go  
Let me go _

"You could stay," was playing in the mind again after Shaw reached her apartment and donned some running clothes. She snorted. "Right!" and tied her shoelaces.

She had picked up the pieces and literally put Root back together, not sure what would have happened if she hadn't.

And while Root certainly was an extreme, she was also crazy. Given, the voice in her head actually existed, but still. Crazy and intriguing, damn, Shaw picked up her pace, hoping she could clear her mind.

But to no avail, Root had gotten under her skin and now she cursed herself for not taking advantage and getting it out and over with. It would have been so easy.

_Grab your gun, time to go to hell _

Root sat on Shaw's doorstep when she returned from her run.

"A war is coming and probably not all of us will survive this."


End file.
